


Belonging

by todisturbtheuniverse



Series: Amaranthine [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Grey Wardens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:03:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1304209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todisturbtheuniverse/pseuds/todisturbtheuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by dianjabla on Tumblr: another Sigrun & Velanna fic. Part 2 to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1282594">Squint Sideways</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Belonging

Velanna touched the cover of the book, drew her hand back as if burned—then touched it once more, just to be sure. Fairytales. How very asinine.

But now—when she could feel the puffiness under her eyes, the snarls in her hair, the sun rising with determination outside—she remembered that the words had rolled over her like a wave, burying her in the sand until she couldn’t see, or hear. Until she was asleep. She wondered if they held the same power if no one read the words aloud.

They wouldn’t, she decided, but she pulled the book into her lap, anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to know how the story ended.

*

Sigrun and her daggers were in the practice yard. Nathaniel was there, too, hitting his mark from fifty feet away every time.

"Velanna!" the dwarf called brightly, waving. "Do you want to spar?"

Velanna felt the book under her arm burn a little hotter. She shifted uneasily. “I do not think that is wise,” she said, and tried not to sound rude about it.

”I’ll use practice daggers,” Sigrun volunteered, throwing her usual blades so that they stuck amidst Nathaniel’s arrows. “And you can just tone down your spells a bit.”

Velanna put the book down, and on second thought, propped her staff against the wall, too. It had been a gift from her Keeper, when she’d still had one, and it amplified her power dangerously. Without it she could still kill, of course, but it would be easier not to let her magic get away from her.

"And Nathaniel can judge!" the dwarf said cheerfully. "Give us points."

Nathaniel shrugged and sat down on a nearby crate, laying his bow over his knees. “Keep it safe,” he suggested. “No hits to the face or below the belt.”

Sigrun grinned, bouncing up on the balls of her feet. “I don’t think I could reach your face,” she confided to Velanna.

Velanna tried to smile back. She tried.

"Go on," Nathaniel said, leaning back.

She struck before Sigrun could strike her: roots churned up from the ground that would knock the dwarf back, put her off-balance, and open her up for a follow-up attack. Before Velanna could cast again, though, there was a firm thwack to her lower back. Sigrun had evaded the attack, snuck through, and delivered an attack of her own. Before Velanna could make out her form through the shadows that hid her, she’d skipped away again.

"Point," Nathaniel said, grinning.

Frustrated, Velanna cast again, attempting to attack the firmer shape within that shadow. Sigrun dodged the blast of cool air. The next burst caught her full in the chest, though, knocking her back. She chuckled, catching her breath.

"Point," Nathaniel called again.

They traded blows, back and forth, until it flowed like a dance, the beat kept with the steady smack of feet on ground and wooden daggers on limbs and magic absorbed with a muffled thud into armor. Nathaniel gave points less and less often as the battle went on.

Velanna had been with these companions, her fellow Wardens, for several months. She hadn’t noticed, but an innate knowledge of their fighting styles had taken root in her muscle memory. When Sigrun was about to attack, Velanna’s instinct wasn’t to counter, but to dodge—to get out of the way, so that the dwarf could eliminate whatever enemy was threatening them. Though she could counter, and did, they knew each other well enough that the other always seemed to be one step ahead: predicting their movements, preventing their blows.

It felt a bit like sparring with Seranni, she realized. It felt like home.

They sat down on Nathaniel’s crate when they grew too tired, and he went to fetch them both water. Velanna picked up the book. It didn’t feel so accusing in her hands anymore—a lively warmth rather than burning heartwood.

"I came to give this back to you," she said, passing the book to Sigrun.

Sigrun bumped her shoulder against Velanna’s. “It belongs to the Keep, not me. I’m Legion of the Dead, remember? We aren’t allowed to have things.”

"You’re a Warden," Velanna said, still holding the book out. "Like me."

Sigrun shook her head, but she took the book, running careful fingers over the cover. “Did you like the story?” she wanted to know.

Velanna shrugged. “It left something to be desired,” she said, the kindest thing she could think of.

"Most fairytales do," the dwarf sighed.


End file.
